by Helen Phifer
‘Hey, I’m sorry but I have to ask: did you kill Gabby Stevens?’
She stared at him, watching his expression. It changed from morose to one of disbelief.
‘Are you for real, Amy? Are you seriously accusing me of killing someone?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t believe it, but you know people are asking questions. I thought I’d come straight to you.’
‘Jesus, talk about kick a guy when he’s down. No, I did not. Why would I do that? I help people. I don’t go round murdering them for fun. You’re my friend, do you honestly think I would do something so horrible?’
‘Where were you the night she was killed?’
‘Here, with Sophie, and you can ask her. She’s not exactly going to lie for me when it’s obvious she doesn’t love me anymore.’
She reached out for him, pulling him close. ‘No, you dweeb, I just wanted to check. I have to go, but I’ll come back when this is over. I’ll bring you food and we’ll watch Die Hard and eat pizza. You can sob into the pillow and tell me all about what happened, okay.’ She headed towards the front door. ‘Oh and empty your bin, it stinks.’
‘Thanks, Amy, thanks for calling. I’m so glad you came. I feel so much better now.’
She waved and shut his front door behind her.
He was telling the truth; she knew that one hundred per cent.
FIFTY-ONE
Morgan didn’t speak: what was there to say? Ben hadn’t phoned her back and she desperately wanted to talk to him. He made her feel safe and would know what to do. Her phone rang, startling her from the daze she was in. She didn’t know the number and thought about ignoring it but couldn’t.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, is this Detective Brookes?’ The voice was faint but Morgan thought she recognised it.
‘It is, can I help?’
‘It’s probably nothing, but you said to ring. It’s Charlotte Stevens.’
Morgan put the phone to her opposite ear furthest from Dan and turned to look out of the window.
‘Hi, what can I do?’
‘Well, I’ve been going through Gabby’s things; you know, like you said to. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but it was also nice as well. I found a stack of her diaries from when she was a teenager. I don’t think I’ll be looking at them for a very long time, but it’s nice to know they’re there when I feel up to it.’
‘No, I can’t imagine you will, but at least you have them for when you’re ready. It will be like hearing her speak all over again, although teenage diaries can be a little bit brutal or at least mine are. I’m sorry to ask, but was anything missing?’
‘Well I don’t know for sure if they are – she could have lost them for all I know – but she had a pair of earrings that were very sentimental to her. Her gran bought them before she died. They were Pandora; the Pandora bag and receipt are still here, but the box and earrings aren’t. I know she would never have given them away.’
A thousand images began to fill Morgan’s head: the silver gift bag; the huge pink bow. She stared at her reflection in the car wing mirror and could just see the tip of the earring she was wearing. Her voice came out almost a whisper. ‘Can you describe them for me?’ Morgan knew exactly what she was going to say.
The air in the car was suffocating. She could feel the throbbing of a pulse in her head as her heart pumped the blood around her body much faster than normal.
‘They weren’t expensive, just sentimental. They are a small pair of angel wings, with the tiniest diamond stone in them.’
Morgan thought back to her conversation with Dan when she’d told him about the messages from Gabby. He’d mentioned text messages, but she hadn’t told him that: she’d only said messages. How did he know she hadn’t been referring to WhatsApp? It was weak, she knew, but next to the earrings, she knew with a gut-wrenching feeling that she was right. It was Dan. He was Taylor. Her tongue felt thick inside her mouth and her throat was dry. She couldn’t look in his direction because she knew he was listening to her.
‘Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll add that to the list. Take care.’ She hung up; her phone was on its last bit of charge. She needed it. Still staring out of the window, the car began to slow and she heard the steady tick of the indicators as he pulled into a lay-by overlooking Lake Thirlmere. The only other vehicle was a camper van, but it was empty.
She spoke as calmly as she could. ‘What’s up? Why have you stopped?’
Dan’s voice was calm, steady and didn’t waver. ‘I don’t know, you tell me?’
She glanced at him; he was smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes. Those eyes: the more she stared at him, the more they looked familiar. They weren’t like her green eyes; they were much darker. Like the eyes of the monster who had created them.
‘Nothing, just a victim of a burglary who realised some jewellery was missing and wanted to add it to the list. Obviously, the stuff will be long gone, but you know how it is, you have to play the game.’
Dan nodded. ‘Yes, we do. Are you okay though? You’ve gone a bit pale.’
‘I’m exhausted and I feel really ill. Can you take me home, please? Don’t worry about the car tonight, we can sort it out tomorrow.’
He reached over, his fingertips brushing the loose strands of hair to one side which had fallen out of her ponytail. ‘Aw, you’re wearing them. I’m glad you like them.’
His touch repulsed her and she wanted to rip the earrings out and scream at him. The thought that he’d given her jewellery from a girl he’d murdered made her stomach clench hard.
‘Yes, they’re lovely. Thank you.’
She looked out of the window; she could make a run for it if she followed the footpath then veered into the bushes. She may be able to hide until help arrived. It was her only option. She couldn’t sit here and let him kill her. Without thinking, she drew her arm up and backhanded him in the face as hard as she could. She felt the warm spray of blood as she bust his nose.
He screamed. ‘Ahh fuck.’
Opening the car door, she ran towards the footpath and the lake, hoping to God someone was around. In a matter of seconds, her legs were hurting and her lungs were on fire. She wished she’d actually attempted to finish the bloody Couch to 5K instead of messing around. Her fingers were curled around her phone. She would phone for help as soon as she put some distance between them. A car door slammed behind her and she knew he was coming for her. He wouldn’t stop until he was choking the life out of her. He had no other option but to kill her now she knew who he was.
‘Morgannn. Morgan, come back here. What’s wrong with you? Why did you just hurt me like that?’
He was coming; she could hear his footsteps on the path. She saw a tiny gap between some hedging and pushed herself through it. Thousands of sharp thorns were tearing her skin and clothes, but she didn’t stop and squeezed on through until she was on the other side. Then she began running again. She could see the edge of the lake where people were canoeing but it was some distance away. Running blindly through bushes and skirting around trees, she took out her phone and hit the call button. It rang and was answered immediately. Out of breath she could barely speak and managed to gasp ‘Help’, before the screen went black as the battery died.
FIFTY-TWO
Morgan crouched low, pressing against the trunk of a gnarly, ancient pine tree, trying to breathe silently, which was almost impossible her lungs were burning so much. She heard him in the distance, running down the narrow, stony path.
‘Morgan, don’t be stupid. What’s wrong with you? Why are you freaking out like this?’
She shuddered at the thought of the earrings and him touching her hair, wanting to rip them away from her skin, but she had nowhere to put them, and if she made it out of here alive they were evidence. Looking around, she had two choices: she could either stay here and hope he gave up looking or carry on running towards the lake and the people out on canoes. But she had no idea if she was heading in the ri
ght direction and they could be across the other side by now. Would they even hear her if she was calling for help? By the time they turned around she could be dead. That’s a lot of what ifs, Morgan… She looked around on the ground for something to protect herself with as she heard him thundering through the bushes. He was close. She spotted a fallen branch, large enough to do some damage, and crawled towards it.
A shadow fell across her back, blocking out the filtered sunlight coming through the trees.
She turned around to see Dan towering above her. His face was a bloody mess, and she took some pleasure knowing she’d managed to hurt him: that was for Stan and Gabby. Stalling for time, she asked him.
‘How come your DNA didn’t come up as a match?’
He grinned. ‘Do you think I’d be so stupid as to hand in a sample of my own DNA, I got a friend to swab his cheek for me after a few pints of lager. All I had to do was swap it when I had to go to get mine done, in the blink of an eye they had his DNA under my name, so easy and until you came along, untraceable.’
‘Why?’
‘Why not, I was always going to come after you, Morgan. You got the happy ending I didn’t, imagine my surprise when you turned up your first day as a student on area. I couldn’t quite believe it, then I figured it was meant to be. I knew who you were and you had just saved me the hassle of coming looking for you.’
Her heart was racing as she backed away in the direction of the branch, shuffling along on her bottom, her hands behind her, and then her fingers brushed against it and she knew she had a fighting chance. All he had was his bare hands, which wasn’t much comfort. He’d already managed to strangle two people with them, using rope. She was not going to be the third. She needed to keep his attention focused on her and not the fact that her arms were getting a tight grasp on the branch.
‘Why are you doing this, Dan, or should I call you Taylor? You’re my brother. We should stick together not be like this.’
‘Dan is fine. I don’t know Taylor. He’s a snot-nosed kid who slept whilst his mum was murdered. But you, you were there for the whole show. What did you think when he stabbed the woman who loved us? Did you scream for her? Did you try and stop him?’
Morgan caught glimpses of the murder in front of her eyes: Gary arguing with the woman who was her mum. She was watching from the stairs, scared of the noise and too scared to do anything. She looked at Dan: she had been a three-year-old child, helpless, how was she supposed to stop it all? He’d have killed her. But that was then, she wasn’t helpless now. Her other hand slowly wrapped itself around the branch. She hoped it wasn’t too heavy to lift.
‘I was a toddler, what could I have done, Dan? I didn’t know what was happening until I saw the blood and it was too late. What’s your excuse? Did you have your teddy close by whilst you slept? Do you still have it?’
The fear inside her had turned to a burning rage at him, at the injustice of her entire life, and she could tell he sensed a shift in her.
‘No, I don’t. You, you had a picture-perfect life, didn’t you? You got a happy family and a happy ever after. What did I get? A Bible basher of a substitute mother who didn’t do compassion and liked to remind me every single day that I was going to hell just like my daddy.’
‘A happy family? Stan never wanted me. He was drunk for most of my childhood. And then Sylvia killed herself when I was fifteen. So why did you have to kill him? What’s so happy about that, you stupid arsehole?’
‘I killed him because he was going to tell you the truth about me, about our dysfunctional family. I didn’t want you to know about me until I was ready, and he was about to ruin it whilst the pair of you played happy families.’
She was enraged. He took a step towards her, but she turned, grabbing the heavy branch and jumping up, her feet planted wide apart to keep her steady. She held the branch like a rounders bat, ready to use it if he came any nearer. There was laughter in the distance and she heard voices coming down the path. This was her chance. Dan lunged for her before she could scream, but she’d already swung the bat and it cracked against the side of his temple with a dull thud. He hit the floor, out cold, and she dropped it her hands were shaking so much. Glancing at him there was a trickle of blood running down the side of his cheek from the cut, and a part of her wanted to check he was okay, but she knew he could be faking it. Instead, she ran towards the voices, praying they had a phone she could use to ring Ben.
She burst through the bushes onto the path, towards the voices, and two women with the three kids all screamed together; the sound was ear-splitting. Morgan held up her hands, realising she must look a state. She was bleeding; her clothes were torn, and she was panting hard as she tried to catch a breath.
‘Police, it’s okay, I’m a police officer. Have you got a phone?’
The older woman pulled one from her pocket, handing it to her nervously. The slightly younger one had wrapped her arms around all three kids and was pulling them towards her protectively. Morgan rang 999 and asked for officers. The call handler asked her location, but she didn’t know where the hell she was.
‘Where are we?’
‘The public footpath down to Thirlmere; tell them to park at the lay-by near the bus stop just before Swirls Car Park.’
This meant nothing to Morgan, but she relayed the information to the call handler, who told her to stay on the line. She turned to the family and smiled her best everything-is-going-to-be-okay smile.
One of the kids stepped away from his mum and asked: ‘Are you hurt; you’re bleeding? We have some Paw Patrol plasters in the car. I’m always falling over and hurting my knees.’
She smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. ‘I’m okay, thank you, it’s just a few scratches and it looks worse than it is.’ She had no idea what she looked like but was doing her best to keep them calm. Then she passed the phone back.
‘Please can you stay on the line? I need you to go back to your car and lock yourselves inside it and wait for the police to arrive. This is deadly serious.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards the densely wooded area she’d emerged from, trying to convey just how dire her situation was without terrifying the three cute kids in the process.
‘Yes, we’ll do that. Are you sure you’re okay? You should come with us. We can all wait in the car.’
‘I can’t, I have to make sure he doesn’t follow. Please go now and tell them where I am when they arrive.’
The women turned, grabbing their children’s hands, and dragging them back along the footpath back to their car.
Morgan’s heart was racing. Exhausted, she sat down on a rock, watching and listening to make sure Dan wasn’t sneaking up on her.
FIFTY-THREE
Amy could hear her phone ringing on the front seat of the car where she’d left it and answered it.
‘Hi, this is despatch. I have a bit of a weird one. I couldn’t decide what to do and you’re the only one who answered. I’ve tried Detective Brookes and your boss; sorry, you’ve caught the short straw. Should I put her through?’
‘You better had.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Hello, Detective Amy Smith. Can I help you?’
‘Yes, please. You have to help her. She’s in trouble. I don’t know what to do.’
Amy tilted her head back and rolled her eyes, thinking about the shitty day she’d had so far and how this call was about to send it into orbit.
‘I’m sorry, can you slow down? Who do I need to help?’
‘Morgan Brookes.’
Amy sat upright, a chill settling over her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m her aunt. It’s a long story, but she came to see me earlier and I gave her my phone number. I had a phone call ten minutes ago and it was her; I’m sure it was her voice.’
‘What did she say?’
‘“Help”, she gasped for help and then that was it.’
Amy was already inputting Ben’s collar number into the airwaves radio to call him direct. ‘Can you st
ay on the phone, please? I need to get some details and speak to my boss.’
Ben’s voice answered.
‘Yeah?’
‘You need to speak to this woman; she’s phoned 101 because she got a phone call from someone gasping for help. She said it was Morgan.’
‘Oh Christ, where is she?’
‘I’ll tell her to hang up and you can ring her.’ She threw the radio onto the seat.
‘Hello, can you give me your number so my boss can ring you back?’
She wrote the number on the back of her hand, ended the call and sent it to Ben. Then she began driving back towards the station because she didn’t know what else to do.
Ben was in his car, the phone on hands-free and his radio on full blast as he listened to the woman.
‘Ettie, thank you for ringing. We’ll find her, I promise.’
‘Good, she knows about her brother and father. This is all something to do with those two. Can you let me know when you find her that she’s okay?’
‘Yes, I will.’
He hung up; picking up his radio, he was about to call it in when a grade one emergency call was passed over the air.
‘All available patrols to the A591 and the public footpath down to Thirlmere near Swirls Car Park; officer in distress.’
He put his foot down, listening to the different collar numbers tell the operator they were on their way. He knew where the footpath was, he’d walked it a few times over the years, but what the hell was she doing there? He rang Amy, who sounded as frantic as he felt.
‘Jesus, she’s never allowed out of the office after this, right? I can’t take this. I’m almost thirty and if I haven’t got grey hair by the end of today it will be a miracle. By the way, I spoke to Isaac and it isn’t him, I’m sure.’
‘I was going to speak to him, thank you that saves me a job. I know it isn’t him. It isn’t Morgan either; it has to be Taylor, and either she knows who he is and found him or he came looking for her.’
